Last Ounce
by Morganel
Summary: I have no way of hooking you. Although, I do believe whoever stumbles across it will enjoy the read.  There is a building where people from both sides can exist at the same time. Both sides are there. So the is the Device. Established P/AO. 3 wip endings.
1. Last Ounce

Peter was more than a little uncomfortable. He and Olivia were stuck in a vault with no cell connection. Their suspect had locked them in and had fled. Olivia was pacing and Peter was leaning against the wall. The room was small, and he could smell the shampoo Olivia used wafting through the room. It was torture; he couldn't really help missing what he'd had with _her._ It wasn't the differences; it was the way he felt being with _her_ that he missed. The simplicity of conversations, the lips he could kiss whenever he felt like it, a warmth next to him while he slept. He missed that spunk he thought he'd brought out of her, that easy smile. He felt awful when he'd found out, both because he'd been too blinded by the need for a family feeling to see that this wasn't the Olivia that had crossed universes for him, and also because he'd fallen in love with _her_ and the feeling of belonging that came with it. Olivia glanced at him, rolling her lip between her teeth. She'd been doing that a lot. It was something _she_ did. It was something he thought was really cute, a nervous habit, regardless of the hard FBI agent persona _she, _they, each had to put on.

"Peter?" He had loved hearing his name on her lips, _her_ lips. It was admiring and what he could only identify as loving it contributed to the belonging he'd been feeling. Olivia's was strained, and uncomfortable, at least it had been since she got back. He glanced up at her. Her bottom lip was firmly planted between her teeth.

"Can...I ask you something?" He'd heard nervous on her voice before. Their voices. He nodded.

"You just did, 'Livia." He said with a little smirk. She gave him a look, as if she was pleading with him.

"Seriousness got it. Go ahead." She took a step toward him, she swallowed.

"Peter, I want..." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"I don't want to feel so closed off." She looked like she was searching for words that she couldn't find.

"I hate that..." she looked down for a second and took a deep breath. She looked back up.

"I hate what happened. It kills me. Even with that, I get it now, I get it. I, I really want...to start where we left off..." She swallowed again. He saw how hard this was for her, and nodded. He stood up straight, reached out, and cupped her chin. He took a step closer and leaned in close, enough to feel her breath on his face, and reminding him of that last kiss he'd wished he'd given, regardless of the heartbreak and betrayal he'd felt.

"I'm so sorry Olivia." His lips were on hers ever so gently, he wanted her to move.

"Hurts." She whispered feeling that little bit of stubble around his mouth. She closed her eyes and went back to the Other Side. She went back to the hotel room, with bangs and red hair, and their Charlie out cold on the floor. She replayed their conversation, and eased into the kiss they were presently sharing. Unlike then, there wasn't a sense of desperation and loss, and she let her hand wind into his hair instead of flutter at his collar. He held her, feeling _her_ with an ache in his heart. He pulled her a little closer; with one arm over her wing bone the other on the small of her back.

Confusion, uncertainty, understanding. For her it was a start at forgiving, and maybe a restart at living. For him, he wasn't sure. He'd grown to care about both. He'd become accustom to sharing a bed with one, feeling her warmth. He'd grown into a family with the other, each knowing the terrors they witnessed every day, and being there for each other. Torn, it was the best way to describe it.

It wasn't something anyone could dream. The same building on each side. Both sides had access. Both sides now new of its existence. Both sides had just figured it out. Both sides were capable of existing inside it at the same time. It was where a team of shape shifters had transported the device. It was where both this that that side were headed.

Olivia twirled a piece of her hair between her fingers. She was nervous, and she hoped it wasn't blaringly obvious. The building was literally the only place in both worlds where people from either side could cross safely and meet without damaging the atomic structure of the area. Brandon had assured her that. She was still nervous.

"'Liv? You okay?" Charlie broke her out of her reverie and she looked at him.

"I'm fine." She replied, Charlie gave her a look. He didn't buy it.

"Liv." He coaxed, "You've been a little out of it since Colonel Broyles went missing. What's up?" She'd been putting up a façade for weeks now. She slipped up. Missed conversations between _her _as her, and Charlie, and Lincoln, even Farnsworth, she didn't know what they were talking about. The Secretary gave her the files on what had happened during her absence, every case, even cam feeds from the office and any other cams they had access to. She'd been pretty lost, _she _was exactly like her. She knew the drugs made her think she was her but it was still a shock. She'd figured it out the second she'd laid eyes on the feed from the hospital that their Olivia knew who she was. It made her feel guilty that she got to take credit for saving Colonel Broyles' son when it was _her_ who deserved the credit. Despite what the Secretary said about them starting a war, she couldn't hate _her_ . It was like she had a twin, look the same have different attitudes. It was a strange feeling.

"It wasn't me." She said. She felt like she'd just let out at long held breath.

"What do you mean?" Charlie was looking worried.

"Before the Colonel went missing. It was _her, _their Olivia who you were working with." She blurted. The SUV pulled over sharply and came to a stop at the side of the road. Olivia's belt tightened around her chest.

"What?" Charlie was turned and facing her directly.

"I was Over There for the eight weeks leading up to the Colonel's disappearance! He's dead Charlie! The Secretary sent me on an undercover assignment Over There for eight weeks! _His_ plan to study their Olivia was shit wrecked because the drugs in her system that made her think she was me wore off! The Colonel died! Charlie, he was killed! Because he helped their Olivia get back Over There!" She practically screamed it all out and bent over in a fit of tears, she covered her face. Charlie was silent for a moment, then leaned over and pulled Olivia into a hug. He let her cry, he'd ask questions later.

"I think the Secretary is fucking bonkers Charlie! You remember when he said Over There started a war? They didn't, the Secretary's alternate crossed universes way back whenever to save Peter, because the one Over There died, and Peter would have too! There is no war. It's all the Secretary. Do you know that Their Olivia still has her sister? She has a niece too! Her name is Ella and she's seven! The first wave killed Their you! Charlie Francis and Olivia Dunham Over There were just as tight as we are. Charlie please say something! I'm not crazy, that was something the Secretary made up so he could make _her _think she was me!"

"Liv, look at me." She leaned out of his hug and looked at him.

"I don't think you're crazy. Me and Lincoln even thought about that you and her were switched. I don't want to fight a war Liv, that's not why I joined Fringe Division. I want to hear every word of this. Right now though, we've got a Fringe event, not ten minutes away that Lincoln said was a top priority. You up for it?" Olivia nodded. Charlie put the SUV in gear and started driving.

~  
His nose had started to bleed. That was when Olivia knew they were in the right room. The sound of metal joints moving at the far end of the large room was also a good identifier. Peter stood ahead of her by a few feet. He groaned and clutched at his head, he took a step closer to the machine.

"Peter!" Olivia whirled around in shock. _She _stood at an entrance parallel to the one she and Peter and entered from. They met each other's gazes. It was a momentary click. Like meeting with someone you hadn't seen in ages, except both were unable to make a move. They were mirrors of each other. Perfectly in alignment with their movements and facial expressions even their heart beats. Peter turned around dizzily and took and half step forward before falling to his knees, clutching at his head in pain.

"Livia."

Olivia tore forward breaking the mirror-like connection with her alter. She slid to her knees in front of Peter and lifted up his chin and then cupped his face.

"Peter." She lifted his face, his nose was bleeding, his eyes were red, and she could see the veins peaking out of his forehead. She felt an odd sense of relief wash over her, one she hadn't felt in the weeks she'd been on the right side. If there was a _right_ side anymore. She slid a hand down his cheeks.

"Hey." She could feel tears choking her up. He gave her a weak smile, and exhaled with what would have been a laugh.

"Livia." She nodded a smile on her face.

"I'm so sorry, Peter." She leaned her forehead against his, her breath was shaky and tears were streaming down her cheeks. Peter shook his head; tears were forming in his eyes, and he blinked them away.

"I'm sorry." He choked, groaning against the pain. He hadn't realized how much he had fallen for her until she'd been gone. It killed him to know he'd fallen in love with someone who hadn't set out to fall in love, but...it had happened. He kissed her, gently, even with the pain clouding his mind. He was so glad to feel her respond. To know she really did feel the same.

As soon as the name slipped from his lips a crushing weight threw Olivia to the floor. She let out a scream of surprise that was cut short when she hit the floor. It was almost like an angry wind was keeping her on the floor. She looked up and saw her alter cupping Peter's face, comforting him, talking to him. She was crying as she spoke, and just like the wind keeping her on the floor tit also deafened her with its howling. Little bits of rubble and pebbles were flying across the room and hitting the wall on the side she and Peter had entered from, as were disappearing when they made contact. She looked away from their reunion, regardless of the heartbreak it seemed so private to look at. Her eye caught the door _she_ had come from and her heart-which was already beating strongly- skipped a beat. She saw Charlie and Lincoln banging on the door, it was almost invisible but she could clearly see the shadows it made. They were watching the display before them with wide eyes, but shouting things that none of the people in the room could hear. Olivia looked in the direction they were both looking. The machine was pulsing with yellow and blue electricity, and the room had gone an eerie dark with only a few lights along the wall to cast their glow. She looked back at where Peter was kneeling on the floor, he leaned in a placed a gentle kiss to _her_ lips, to which she responded right away. The two kneeling there they looked uninterrupted, undisturbed by the violent wind that was hurling itself through the enclosed space. She'd already felt the heart break, but a hot poker prodded at those heartstrings. That's when she felt it. It was almost like that feeling when a limb has fallen asleep, except less unpleasant, softer and more delicate. Olivia looked behind her at her feet. They were disappearing, as if by pixels on a TV screen. She started to scream, hysterical screams, trying to get their attention. She couldn't help it. She knew her world was going to end, she knew her life and all the people she cared about were about to lose themselves in some catastrophic end of one world. Nevertheless, if she had to die, she was going to die fighting.

It ended abruptly. Like a smack to the face, with a cold sharp bodiless invisible hand. What she could have considered a peaceful moment was propelled backwards into the wall of the warehouse with a surprised shriek.

"Peter!"

"_Peter!_" There were two voices and each were frantic, and filled with terror. He couldn't see everything was black all moving in a cyclone like motion. Surrounding him. He squinted into the darkness trying to place the voices. He saw a vague outline, a hand reaching out, blond hair, _her_ shrieks were desperate. The other was harder to spot but he found her form, obscured through the cloud of spinning darkness, her shrieks were horrified. He was propelled to his feet, and pulled violently toward the machine. It was pulsing and shaking. He stopped in front of it as if he'd hit a wall. He crumpled to the floor, unable to move from his position face down. He felt as if his insides were being pulled toward it. One atom, and one millimetre at a time. A howl of anguish left his mouth as a blinding headache pounded his brain. It felt like his eyes were on fire. He lifted his hand, feeling like a ton of lead was weighing it down. He pulled himself forward, pausing for what felt like ages. Pain laced his every nerve. He was screaming in pain with the slightest movement. He _had _to move forward. It was an inexplicable goal, he had to achieve. It seemed the only thing to end his pain. It consumed him. He collapsed his cheek against the floor. He was right in front of it. It took all of his strength, mustered into a pathetic movement. He raised his right arm feeling the searing pain, and holding back the inevitable anguished howl he could hold for only a moment. The tip of his finger touched the metal. He let that howl out, blood curdling, bone rattling, anguished, desperate. His palm seemed to meld to the machine and a draining power jumped through him. He couldn't see. His eyes were shut.

She felt like lead. Her body felt like it was on fire, but that didn't stop her. She inched forward, using all the upper body strength she had against the unimaginable wind that was beating down on her. It didn't matter who he loved, but her world didn't have to die for him to love her. Her determination was centered solely on the maternal love she held for Ella, who didn't need to know about all the horrors that went on around her, who looked up to Peter, who was potentially about to end her world. Her strength was powered through love for her friends, and dysfunctional family, Peter included. So she wasn't about to give up on any of them, not until she didn't have an ounce of strength left.

She felt like lead. Her body felt like it was on fire, but that didn't stop her. She inched forward, using all the upper body strength she had against the unimaginable wind that was beating down on her. It didn't matter what the Secretary thought, she wasn't about to kill an entire world. She didn't want a war, she never wanted to go to the other side. She hadn't planned on falling in love, she'd thought she already had. She hadn't even thought that she'd ever be a mom, but she was now and that was more important to her now than anything else. There didn't have to be the destruction of one world for the peace of the other, there _was _an attainable harmony. She wasn't one to give up easily. It wasn't in her nature. It was _neither_ of their natures. She could make both Sides have peace, and if not. She would die trying.

She could feel that last ounce of energy falling away. Her arm reaching out a last time. A sting in her eyes. Denim against her fingers. A small burst of energy. Grasping. Grasping . Clutching. Feeling a shock wave pass through her body. She couldn't see. Her eyes were closed.


	2. His Love Alternate Ending1

Tingling. Like when a limb begins to fall asleep, only less uncomfortable, more delicate. She felt light. Weightless. She couldn't move. She didn't want to. The effort it had taken had emptied all the energy she had. She was exhausted. She could hear echoes. People were calling her name. They were worried. She felt hands rolling her over. Her eyes opened. Lincoln and Charlie hovered over her with worry in their eyes.

"So it's true then?" That was Lincoln's voice. She closed her eyes.

"Yeah...Liv told me." Charlie's voice now, she was being lifted; her back was supported by a wall.

"So Broyles' is dead?"

" 'Fraid so. Boss." Rhythmic

"Why don't I hear any insubordination in your tone?" A moment of playfulness. It made her want to smile. The wall supporting her moved, up and down. She was being held against someone's chest, and her head rolled into the crook of their neck. Her lips smiled a little, she remembered that smell.

" 'Cause. I don't think I can muster up the sarcasm. Given the situation." She wondered what the situation was. She guessed silently that Lincoln was supporting her. Charlie's voice was farther away.

"He's the father then?" _Father?_

"Yeah. Bishop's the dad."

"We were really working with her? For eight weeks?"

"That's what Liv told me."

"Secretary put her on assignment Over There, and she ended up housing the Secretary's grandkid?"

"Yup."

She couldn't follow the conversation properly. Where was Peter? Where was _she_? The weightlessness increased in her legs, and she took in a sharp breath. The tingling was increasing.

"I don't think that is any sign that she's getting out of here."

"She in pain?"

"I don't think so."

She didn't like not understanding. Why would she be in pain? She opened her eyes. She expected, to feel scared, or be in shock. She felt neither. Her legs had almost completely disappeared, slowly, as if by pixels on a TV screen.

"Peter?" Her voice was low. She turned her head an inch toward to right. He was holding _her_ and smiling. She looked exhausted as well, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Peter." Charlie got up and walked over to them. He knelt down next to them.

"She's asking for you, she doesn't have too long."

"Wha-"

"I'll stay with her."

Peter got up and walked over slowly to her. He knelt down in front of her.

"Hey." He said his voice was slightly choked.

"Peter." Her breath shook. She was disappearing more quickly.

"I'm here." He said, he wasn't his thoughts remained with _her_.

"Peter." She reached out and grabbed his collar, pulling him closer to her. Lincoln didn't move. "You killed them, Peter. Astrid, Walter, Rachel, Broyles, Chris, Nina...You killed _Ella._" She let go of his collar, or moreover her hands bagan to disappear. She watched his face contort with a mixture of emotions she had no energy to identify. Pain. They all held some sort of pain. That was good enough for her.

"Olivia?" It was her own name, from her own voice. _She _was calling her.

"I'm so sorry." There were tears in her voice, and on her cheeks, Charlie was holding her up. She could forgive, because after all that happened, she wasn't going to disappear without a clear conscience.

"I don't blame you." Just like that, the tingling washed over her. She closed her eyes, and let the happy memories run through her thoughts. Whatever was happening, it didn't feel like death, and if it was death, it was better than going in your sleep.


End file.
